


Finding A Way Back Home

by drakecestanon



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Minor Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:51:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drakecestanon/pseuds/drakecestanon
Summary: A look into the two years when Sam Drake was forced to work with Rafe to find Henry Avery's treasure, which leads to different interpretations of some parts of the game.
As the chapters go on, I will add higher ratings and more tags as needed.  Eventual Drakecest.





	1. Freedom

“Hey _gringo_ , wake up!”  A heavily accented voice boomed through the bars of the small prison cell, practically reverberating through the tiny space.  The sound of keys rattling against metal bars followed soon after, as the prison guard started to unlock the door.

 

“Huh, what’s going on?” Sam mumbled as he bolted up from his cot, the unexpected commotion giving him _quite_ the rude awakening.  Not that he slept _that_ well in the Panamanian jail anyway, but after being locked away for the past thirteen years, he had gotten used to it enough that he wasn’t waking up every hour anymore.  At least he was pretty _sure_ it had been thirteen years.  Sometimes it was hard to keep track of the time since all of the days seemed to bleed into each other.  “Can’t a guy take a nap in peace around here?”  He asked as he rubbed at his neck, his hand smoothing over the flock of birds printed in black ink there.  “I know it’s not dinnertime _yet_.”

 

“Get up, it’s time to go,” the dark-haired guard announced as he opened up the cell door and tossed a duffel bag at Sam.  “Grab your shit and come with me.”

 

Sam just blinked at the warden, fumbling with the bag as he caught it with his chest.  He was pretty familiar with most of the guards at the prison, considering that he had been holed up there for so long, but this particular jailor he didn’t recognize.  “You _serious_?” He asked, a slight lilt to his voice coming out with the words.  “This isn’t a joke?”  It _had_ to be a joke.  There was no way that he was getting out of prison after the events of thirteen years ago; a guard had been killed and the prison workers made _sure_ that no one knew that Samuel Drake was still in existence, but was instead rotting away in the infernal place.

 

“It’s not a joke _gringo_ , someone posted your bail, so you’re a free man now,” the guard stated as he flicked a thumb behind him.  “So get your stuff and follow me.  Unless you _want_ to stay here.”  He paused and gave Sam a cursory look, followed up by a sneer. “I doubt that the clothes you came in with fit you anymore, so I guess we’ll let you keep what you’re wearing.  On the house.”

 

“I didn’t think that I was _eligible_ for bail,” Sam said with furrowed eyebrows, still confused, although internally _excited_ at this turn of events, if it wasn’t too good to be true, that was.  He got up from his bed, and moved to start packing his minimal belongings, which didn’t take him very long to do.  Once he had what few items they allowed him to keep in his cell now safely stowed away in the provided bag, he stepped up to the guard who was waiting for him.  “What about Alcázar?  Don’t I get to say goodbye to him?” Sam asked as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

 

“You can send him a postcard,” the warden flatly stated as he shut and locked the cell door behind them.  “Now come on, this way.”

 

* * *

 

Once Sam got outside of the prison, and just as he was walking through the open, metal gates, the reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks.  He was _free._   A grin crept up to his lips as he inhaled a breath of fresh air, the air of _freedom_ , and his thoughts immediately went to his brother.  _Shit, I’ve got to figure out how to contact Nathan.  Find out where he is, and then get there.  Somehow._  Just as he started trying to calculate the logistics of what he wanted to do, what he _needed_ to do despite being discharged from the prison with only the clothes on his back and what few items he was allowed to own, he slowed his stride when he thought he saw a _ghost_ waiting for him out in the dirt road.  _Rafe?_   His question of _who_ had bailed him out was answered pretty succinctly when he saw the rich kid casually leaning against a sleek looking black car, and almost immediately, his heart sank into his stomach.  For a brief moment, he almost contemplated going _back_ to jail.

 

“Long time no see, Samuel,” Rafe said as he reached a hand out to give Sam a pat on the shoulder.  “Looks like prison didn’t treat you too badly.”

 

Sam wasn’t exactly pleased to see Rafe, he would have much rather it had been Nathan or _anyone_ else really, but considering that Rafe was the one who paid for his freedom, he figured that the least he could do was to be cordial.  Even though Sam hated the way the younger man used his full name, as if he was standing on a pedestal way above him.  It made him feel like he was lower than the dirt underneath the kid’s shoe.  But he pushed his loathing aside, considering he had no doubt that it wasn’t _cheap_ to get someone out that they were determined to pretend didn’t exist anymore.  “Yeah well, there’s not a whole lot to do in there.  I’m pretty sure _you_ know that.”  He gave the younger man a shrug along with a weak smile.  “It was either keep yourself up or waste away.  I guess you can see which one I chose.”

 

“And I’m glad that you did,” Rafe said cooly while motioning towards the car.  “In case you haven’t guessed, I need you Sam.  We’re going to find Avery’s treasure, together.”  He opened the driver’s side door.  “And in case you were wondering, your participation in this isn’t exactly _optional_.  It cost a pretty penny to get you out of that joint, and I intend to make sure I get paid back.  With interest.”

 

Sam exhaled a sigh at Rafe’s words.  Just as he had figured, there _had_ to be a catch.  That treasure, Avery’s treasure, it was meant for him and Nathan to find.  It always had been, and it always _would_ be.  Even back when they were all working together as a trio, he and Nathan had only used Rafe for his money and influence to get themselves into the prison so that they could locate the Saint Dismas Cross in the abandoned tower.  Sure they had made it _seem_ like they were all buddy-buddy, but it was just a front to get Rafe to do what they wanted.  Sam and Nathan didn’t have much for money, especially with how often they were bouncing in and out of jail, so they were pretty much forced to life on the streets.  Every once in a while though, they could afford to stay at a motel for a night or two, and _those_ were the best times for the both of them back then, it really was the simple pleasures in life after all.  So needless to say, they definitely didn’t have the means to bribe anyone, and that’s where Rafe had come in.  But that was also when things had gone _horribly_ wrong and led him to living a _lot_ of his life behind bars.  “Yeah, of course.  I mean, you got me out of there.  It’d be the least I can do,” Sam said with a nod of his head as he rounded the other side of the car.  He didn’t exactly have a _choice_ but to go with Rafe, but he was pretty good at working on the fly.  Sam was confident he’d figure _something_ out eventually, but for now, cooperating with Rafe was probably the best thing to do.  Even if he had a feeling that he was trading the life in one cage for another, different kind of cage.

 

“I’m glad we’re in agreement then,” Rafe said as an easy smirk graced his lips.  “Now, let’s go find that treasure.”


	2. Moving From One Cage to Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two years since Sam was freed from the prison in Panama, but he's still very much a caged bird. He's got a plan to escape, but he finds himself having to incorporate some less than savory ways in order to get the funds that he needs to get out.

After a long, _long_ day of searching around, and yet _again_ coming up empty-handed, Sam flopped back down onto his bed with a weary sigh.  Well, if you could really even _call_ it a bed.  Bed was too generous of a name for a small cot housed inside of a tiny, drafty tent.  But Sam guessed that he was fortunate that Rafe was even willing to provide him with _somewhat_ of a roof over his head.  Even if it _was_ a way to help ensure that he didn’t run off.  Not that he couldn’t hold his own out there, but he wasn’t ready to go, not _yet_.  Sam still had another job to do before he could attempt his escape and hopefully meet up with his brother once again.

 

_Nathan_ , Sam thought as he rolled over to his side, hazel eyes focusing on the zipper door of the tent.  He _really_ missed his little brother, and he briefly wondered if Nathan even thought about him anymore.  Sam knew that in his brother’s eyes, he was dead, and he absolutely couldn’t _wait_ to show up on his doorstep to show him that he was actually _alive_.  But it was easier said than done.  Even though Rafe had provided him with a flimsy roof and an even flimsier bed, it was pretty much _all_ that the rich kid had given to him.  He was pretty sure Rafe figured that getting him out of prison was _more_ than generous enough, so anything else that Sam needed or wanted, was up to him to find a way to obtain.  That included things like food, cigarettes, or even clothes to wear.  He had resigned himself to wearing the shirt from his prison uniform along with a t-shirt that he had picked up from a second hand store in town with some of the money that he had been able to scrape together.  Even worse than barely having money for the stuff he needed, was the fact that he had no _freedom_.  He was out of prison, sure, but whenever he wanted to go _anywhere_ , like to the corner store to pick up a pack of smokes or to the local food joint to get a bite to eat, he was supervised.  Usually by a guy with a gun.  Granted the mercenary chaperoning him wasn’t waving his gun around out in the open, but Sam knew that it was there, and that Rafe had likely ordered the solider to pull it out if he _dared_ to try anything.  He was out of jail, but with the way he was living, he definitely wasn’t _free_.  As far as he was concerned, Sam was still a prisoner, just in a _slightly_ more comfortable jail.

 

Sam huffed a bit as he shifted on the cot, moving to fold an arm under his head.  He found the back of his neck still a bit sticky, along with his hair dampened from sweat after all of his running around earlier.  But it was nearly a daily occurrence for him as he tirelessly searched for Avery’s treasure alongside Rafe.  Especially since he was the one who usually had to do the manual labor out of the two of them.  Since Rafe had such a lockdown on his movements, it meant that he had to find _other_ ways to get what he needed.  Besides the essentials, Sam had been saving up whatever extra cash he managed to scrounge up for the cost of a plane ticket.  He planned on getting the hell out of there and _soon_ , but he just wanted to get a little more money just in _case_.  It was better to be safe than sorry after all.  He found that he could earn cash by doing odd jobs around the camp for some of the other mercenaries, but he also turned to some of his older tricks of the trade, namely stealing money when he could.  But since they were in such a small, segregated area, it was hard to lift people’s wallets without drawing suspicion to himself.  There was no way in hell someone wouldn’t notice if all of a sudden everyone’s money disappeared, so Sam had to be careful to space his petty thievery few and far between.  Because of that, he had to find _other_ ways to augment his cash stash.  Which led him to utilizing the oldest profession out there.  He didn’t _want_ to resort to prostitution, but he felt like he really had no choice.  Sam had _some_ sense of pride, and he didn’t want to go crawling to Rafe for _anything_.  Besides, Rafe had told him in so many words that the price he paid for his freedom from the prison was pretty much _all_ that he was willing to invest in him, so that option was well out of the question anyway.  Selling his body wasn’t nearly as debasing as groveling at the feet of Rafe Adler would be, and it was something that he could take control over rather than someone else controlling him.  Plus, Sam quickly discovered that being in an isolated camp with several mercenaries meant that people were definitely _pent up_.  Word of his services spread by mouth easily through the encampment when he started to provide them, which meant that he had a pretty steady cash flow.  He didn’t have to work _every_ night, it was more like once a week or every other week, but he appreciated the extra money, and he even had some repeat customers.  It was well worth it to him, because he’d do _anything_ to get back to Nathan.

 

Just as the thoughts of his little brother helped him to get through the long days of prison, they helped him get through the nights of whoring his body out as well.  And knowing that night would probably be the last one that he needed to sell himself, brought a smile to his lips.  Sam glanced up from his cot and saw the sky shining in brilliant reds and oranges through the flap of his tent, which meant that the sun was getting close to setting.  It also meant that he needed to meet up with his client not too long after.  With a grunt he rolled off of the cot and got up to standing, and while he was up, he grabbed his towel that was hanging off of the corner of the bed.  Thankfully going to the designated bathing area was pretty much the _only_ place that he could walk to without having to worry about being followed or supervised, although he could always explain taking a couple showers a day by the extent of exploring that he’d been doing almost daily.  No one had to know that he preferred being clean before and after his ‘night job.’  Sam gave a stretch of his arms before heading out of the tent, making sure to zip the door up behind him.  He couldn’t help himself from humming a tune as he walked towards the bathhouse with his towel slung over his shoulder, eager to get the night behind him and finally move on past this particular chapter of his life.

 

* * *

 

 

Darkness had set over the makeshift campground, blanketing everything in soft blacks and dark blues while the stars twinkled brightly above.  Light flickered as it shone from a flashlight gripped in Sam’s hands, and he carefully crept around the scattered tents, making his way to where his client had directed to meet up.  It wasn’t hard to find the lone tree with gnarled branches that was described to him, but unfortunately when he got there, there wasn’t anyone else around yet.  _Hopefully he’ll get here soon_ , Sam thought as he reflexively dug into his coat pocket to dig out his cigarettes.  _Once this is over I need to figure out how to get out of here._   He pulled the small box out, and just as he flipped the lid up to tug a smoke out of it, Sam heard the shuffling of brush nearby.  He aimed the flashlight towards the noise, which ended up illuminating the person that he had been waiting for.  “Oh hey, there you are,” Sam said as he put his box of cigarettes away for later.

 

“You trying to blind me?”  The guy asked gruffly as he held a hand up to his eyes.  He was one of the bigger mercenaries at the camp, a tall blond man with a muscular frame and short hair.

 

“Oh, sorry about that,” Sam said as he dropped his hand down just enough so that the light wasn’t shining in his client’s eyes anymore.  “So, where are we gonna go do this?”  He asked, getting straight to business.  Sam found that trying to make small talk didn’t usually do much for his male clients.  The women sure, he might try to pull some suave moves here and there or make idle chitchat with them, but the men usually just wanted to get down to what he was there for.

 

“My tent’s not far from here,” the solider replied as he flicked a thumb back towards the campground. 

 

“Well what are we waiting for then?” Sam asked, giving the other man a charming smile even though he likely couldn’t see it in the darkness.  “Lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take long to get back to the camp, and soon Sam found himself inside a _much_ nicer tent than his own.  Even the large cot that he was sitting on while he moved to start stripping himself of his clothing was a lot fancier and sturdier than the one he had been sleeping on.  _It’s been two long years,_ he thought as he tugged his jacket off and hung it on the corner of the bed.  _If things go according to plan, by tomorrow night I’ll be out of this hole and on a plane to see Nathan._ “They really hook you Shoreline guys up, huh?” He commented with a flick of his hand, motioning towards their surroundings.  “Your digs are a lot fancier than mine, that’s for sure.”

 

“Rafe takes care of us,” the blond soldier grumpily replied as he tugged his thick coat from his sleeves.

 

_Guess he’s really not in the mood to talk_ , Sam thought as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, thankful that there was a small heater in the corner of the tent to keep them warm.  They hadn’t been in Scotland at the most seasonable time, and the chill in the air easily cut through the thin fabric of the tents at night.  “So uh, I didn’t really catch your name, what did you want me to call you?”  Sam asked as he unbuckled his belt.  The encounter they had earlier in the day when they had agreed on the terms of the night’s arrangement was short and impersonal, consisting of just a few inconspicuously muffled words as they were crossing paths.  So it’s not like he had really gotten to _know_ his client before they met up.  All he knew was that this would hopefully be the last time he’d have to do this before meeting up with his brother again.

 

“Freddie,” the mercenary got out as he bent over to remove his combat boots, kicking them to the side once he had tugged them off of his feet.

 

“Nice to meet you Freddie,” Sam said with a nod of his head while looking up to give the other man a smile.  There was no reason for him to say his name in return, he was pretty sure that most, if not all of the mercenaries already knew it.  Everyone was aware that Sam was working for Rafe, and that he wasn’t to leave the camp unchaperoned.  He was _damn_ sure that everyone had gotten that particular memo at some point in the past two years.  Besides, this guy knew to seek him out for his _services_ , so he had no doubt that he knew his name and who he was.  “Let’s get this show on the road then, huh?”  Sam got up from the bed and started to shimmy out of his jeans, tugging his underwear down as well along with them.  There was no reason for him to be bashful, considering what he was there for.  _Might as well get this over and done with so that I can go get some rest for tomorrow_ , Sam thought as he tugged the thick fabric down his legs, exposing himself to the man that he was going to soon sleep with.  He had planned to hopefully escape at night, so he had no doubt that the next day was going to be a _long_ one.

 

Freddie was working on getting his clothes off as well, but when Sam started getting naked in front of him, he couldn’t help himself from looking at what he was going to be paying for.  He caught a glimpse of some black ink that stood out upon Sam’s pale skin, right above the spot where his leg met his torso.  “What’s that?”  The soldier asked as he tried to make out the script with a tilt of his head as Sam moved.

 

“Huh?” Sam replied when he looked up from what he was doing.  At first he thought that his client meant the trio of scars that dotted his torso, but any soldier worth his salt _should_ know what bullet scars looked like.  When he saw that Freddie’s curious stare was zoned in on just below the scars, he gave a little chuckle.  “What, you’ve never seen a dick before?”  Sam joked with a soft laugh.  “That’s kind of weird since I’m _pretty_ sure you’ve got one of your own.”

 

The soldier shook his head as he stood there shirtless, but still wearing the bottom half of his Shoreline uniform.  “No, I mean _above_ it,” he clarified with a flick of his finger, pointing towards the scrawling, inked letters.

 

“Oh that?  It’s just a tattoo,” Sam said as he glanced down towards where Freddie was pointing and smoothed a couple of fingers over it.  His words were a _little_ bit of a lie because it wasn’t _just_ a tattoo, it was something that actually meant a _lot_ to him.

 

“Nathan.”  The mercenary read the word that was tattooed on Sam’s skin out loud, not finding it too unusual that it was another guy’s name that was marked on him, but when he really thought about it some more, a realization hit him.  “Nathan _Drake_?”  Freddie asked as his eyes narrowed slightly.  “You have your brother’s name tattooed on you?”  Normally _that_ wouldn’t even be such a strange thing, but considering that the tattoo was in such an _intimate_ place, it definitely set off some suspicions.

 

“Uh… Yeah,” Sam answered back, now feeling a little _nervous_ about the sudden interrogation over the ink on his body.  His previous clients didn’t seem to be bothered about what marks were on his body as long as he did the job that he was paid for, but for some reason this guy seemed a _little_ perturbed about it.  “Yeah, it’s my brother’s name.  Is that a problem?”  He wasn’t surprised though, that people knew of his relation to his little brother.  Most everyone, if not _everyone_ at the camp also knew about the _legendary_ treasure hunter Nathan Drake, and Sam’s relation to him.

 

“Were you and your brother _fucking_?”  The soldier asked with darkened eyes and a sneer on his lips, practically spitting the words out of his mouth.

 

Sam nearly choked on _nothing_ when his client asked him the question.  He sure didn’t expect _that_ , and with the way Freddie was now glaring at him with both suspicion and what seemed to be anger, he probably _should_ have made an attempt to tread more carefully with his reply.  But somehow he was a little bit _offended_ by the mercenary’s words, and couldn’t help what came out of his mouth next.  “I don’t think that’s _any_ of your business,” Sam huffed, crossing his arms in front of his bare chest.  Sure, what he and Nathan had done in the past would have seemed wrong to most _anyone_ , but most people just didn’t understand their relationship and how close they truly _were_.  And it seemed like this was also the case with Freddie, not that he felt like he needed to explain anything, despite how riled up the man now seemed to be.  “So are we gonna do this or what?”  Sam asked, trying to flip the subject from him and his brother to the reason why he was now sitting naked in the guy’s tent in the first place.

 

“No, you’re going to get dressed and get the _hell_ out of my tent,” the soldier replied with a growl as he whipped a hand towards the entrance and pointed at it fiercely.  “And don’t make me pull out my gun.”

 

“Oh come _on_ ,” Sam protested, raising his hands in front of him in frustration, but not moving to budge from where he was sitting.  He needed the money, although it was just more for backup funds and to pad his wallet in case he had underestimated how much he _really_ needed.  “I need the cash, and you _obviously_ need some sort of release of tension, considering how wound up you are right now,” he pleaded, kind of in shock at how quickly things had gone awry.

 

“I said, get _out_ ,” Freddie reiterated with grit teeth, while his eyes flashed with anger.  “You brother fucking _faggot_.”

 

Sam first blinked at the insult, a moment passing before the vile words really sunk into his skull.  His gut reaction was to deck the guy, but the sensible part of his brain thankfully took over before he was able to physically react.  He couldn’t afford to screw things up _now_ , not when he was so close to getting out from underneath Rafe’s thumb.  And getting into a fight with one of Rafe’s guys would probably _not_ go unnoticed.  He took a deep, calming breath before speaking, trying not to let his own anger seep through.  Sam had a choice insult in retort to the soldier, but he held his tongue instead.  “Okay, I’ll leave if that’s what you want,” Sam said as he held a hand up to show that he wasn’t going to try anything funny.  “Just let me put my clothes back on and I’ll be out of your hair, and we can forget that this ever happened.”

 

The mercenary just gave Sam a sharp nod.  “Make it quick.”

 

_Who knew that my brother had such a bad reputation?_   Sam thought as he hurriedly made to get himself dressed, although he had a feeling it was more the _nature_ of his relationship with Nathan that bothered the other man rather than Nathan himself.  Even though Sam didn’t actually _admit_ anything to Freddie, he also didn’t _deny_ it, and that had been his mistake.  Once he had tugged his shoes back on, he cautiously backed towards the entrance of the tent with a hand raised.  He could never really trust the Shoreline guys completely to not get trigger happy.  “So uh, am I still going to get paid?”  He asked as he unzipped the tent flap and carefully stepped a foot out into the darkness.  Sam had to at least _try_ for the cash.

 

A shove to his back was the reply, and Sam clumsily stumbled to the ground when he was thrown off-balance, falling down knees-first.

 

“Ow,” Sam complained as he rolled over to rub at one of his kneecaps, and looking up just in time to see the tent getting zipped closed in a hurry.  “I guess that’s a no,” he mumbled as he got up to standing, rubbing his now-stinging palms of his hands down his thighs after having landed in the grassy dirt.  It sucked that the night had gone downhill, but he’d figure something out.  He always did.  All he knew was that he needed to get out of there and _soon_.  Sam patted at his jacket pocket and was pleased to find that his cigarettes were still there, afraid that they might have dislodged due to his unexpected fall.  So he tugged the box out in order to pull a smoke from it, and sat it between his lips.  With a little more digging he found his lighter, and lit the cigarette, immediately taking a draw from it once it was glowing.  Sam closed his eyes and sighed as the nicotine entered his lungs.  He had _really_ needed that cigarette.  After taking a moment to savor the flavor of tobacco, he tugged his flashlight out and clicked it on.  With the cigarette perched between his teeth and light to lead the way, he headed back towards where he had been calling home for the past two years.  Hopefully, it wouldn’t be his home for very much longer.


	3. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafe finds out about Sam's little side gig that he has going on in camp, and as you can imagine, he's not pleased.
> 
> (I know it's been a little while since I updated, and I promise that I haven't forgotten about this fic! I just got caught up in writing other things in the meantime. ;A;)

When Sam was rudely awakened by one of Rafe’s men early in the morning, he knew that it probably wasn’t for a _good_ reason.  He was roughly shaken awake with gruff orders to get dressed and to go see Rafe _immediately_ , but before he could even blearily ask what was going on, the soldier had already marched right back out of the tent with no explanation given.  “Shit,” he murmured to himself as he dragged a hand down his face.  _I hope this doesn’t have anything to do with what happened last night,_ he pondered as he crawled out from under his comforter and slowly got up from the cot, clad in only a pair of plaid boxers and a white t-shirt.  _Rafe doesn’t usually pull this kind of thing unless it’s important._ They usually worked together based on an agreed upon schedule, so it was _odd_ that he was being ordered up and about so early.  _Better not keep him waiting,_ Sam thought as he dug through what little clothing he had in order to find something to wear for the day.  He’d been on the other end of Rafe being mad a few times before, and he really didn’t want to experience it _again_ over something as little as making him wait.  Once he had tugged his clothes on and was halfway decent, he opened up the tent flap to the chill of the early morning air and headed towards Rafe’s side of the camp.

 

* * *

 

 

Soon Sam found himself standing in front of the door to Rafe’s trailer on the other side of the encampment.  He was always a little jealous that Rafe had an actual _building_ to himself, even if it was _just_ a trailer, and not a massive mansion that he had no doubt was the kind of thing that Rafe was more accustomed to living in.  But at least he wasn’t in prison anymore.  That was pretty much his mantra over the past couple of years while he had been in a _partnership_ with Rafe.  If you could even call it that.  He inhaled a breath to shake off any nervousness that was threatening to well up within him, and raised his hand to knock on the door.  After a few moments, the door to the trailer opened up, and unfortunately, Sam was face to face with the guy who had refused his services last night.  _Now_ he was nervous.  “H-Hey Freddie, Rafe in there?”  He asked with a weak smile and a small wave of his hand, trying to hide his anxiety that was starting to crop up.  If the mercenary had talked to Rafe, there was no _telling_ what he was walking into.

 

“Yeah, come in,” Freddie answered shortly as he stepped aside and indicated for Sam to enter.  The scowl on his face was anything but welcoming, though.

 

“Thanks,” Sam said with a nod as he stepped inside, trying to avoid Freddie’s stare, but he could feel it practically burning a hole in the back of his head.  “I’ll just uh, head over here,” he mumbled as he pointed towards the area that Rafe typically did his work in.  Unfortunately, it seemed like the mercenary wasn’t going to leave them alone to talk, as Sam could hear footsteps following behind him.  _Great,_ he thought to himself as he made his way through the trailer and soon saw Rafe sitting behind his desk.  “Hey Rafe, you called?”

 

“Samuel, I’m glad to see you got my message,” Rafe said coolly as he looked up from working on his laptop, and carefully lowered the screen shut.  “You didn’t make me wait _too_ long, seems I’ve trained you well.”

 

Sam stifled a yawn.  “Kind of early for a wakeup call, don’t you think?”  He joked, trying to lighten the mood that already felt kind of heavy for so early in the morning.  “I didn’t think you were a morning person.”

 

“I didn’t get where I am by lazing around and sleeping in until noon,” Rafe responded seriously while giving Sam a cold stare.  “Not that I never wanted to, but business is a nine to five affair, you know.  And often times later than that.”

 

“Yeah… Sure,” Sam agreed with a nod.  _Pretty easy to say that when your parents gave you everything,_ he thought spitefully.  “So, I’m sure that you didn’t call me here to give me business advice, right?”  He asked as he got straight to the point of the morning visit, while a slight hint of a smile lifted at the corner of his lips.

 

“No, you’re right, I didn’t,” Rafe replied with a furrow of his eyebrows.  He lifted a hand to stroke at his chin thoughtfully for a moment as a shifty grin appeared on his face.  “Do you want to hear the good news first, or the bad news?”

 

The words made Sam’s stomach sink just a little bit.  He knew that look on Rafe’s face, that expression that meant that Rafe was going to mess with him somehow, and it usually wasn’t in a good way at _all_.  The last time Rafe looked like that, he ended up with a black eye that seemed like it took _forever_ to heal.  “I guess give me the good news first,” Sam answered while a nervous chuckle escaped him.

 

Rafe laughed softly as he got up from his chair, and stepped over to the end of his desk where a printer was set up.  “The good news is that I’ve found us another clue to Avery’s treasure.”  He pulled a piece of paper off of the top of the printer and leaned over the desk to hand it to Sam.  “Does that look familiar?”

 

Sam took the offered piece of paper and looked it over.  It was an advertisement for an auction, with pictures of many different antiquities and antiques scattered on the borders, but one particular item stuck out once Sam saw it.  He couldn’t believe his eyes.  “Is that a _Saint Dismas_ cross?”  He asked with disbelief as he gazed at the picture.  It looked _exactly_ like the one that they had recovered so many years ago from the prison in Panama, except the one in the picture actually appeared to be intact and _perfect_.

 

“You bet it is, Samuel,” Rafe replied with a smile.  “And _we’re_ going to fly out to Italy next week to get it.”

 

Sam glanced up from the flyer to look at Rafe.  “Are we stealing it?”  He _had_ to ask, especially since Rafe didn’t typically take him along on any of his business ventures.  Sam figured that maybe Rafe wanted him to do some of the dirty work for once, instead of having his goons do it for him.

 

“What?  _No_ ,” Rafe answered with a shake of his head.  “Don’t be a numbskull.  You know how much security they’re going to have at that auction?  It’d be impossible to steal.”  He met Sam’s eyes.  “I’m prepared to drop a whole lot of cash on that cross, that’s the only way we’ll get it.  Money’s no object when it comes to Avery’s treasure.”

 

“Oh, right,” Sam said with a slight laugh.  “Yeah, what was I thinking?”

 

“You weren’t,” Rafe said flatly.  “Which leads me to the _bad_ news,” he went on to say as he stepped around the desk to move in closer to Sam.

 

_Oh shit_ , Sam thought when Rafe closed the distance between them, and he wished that they still had the desk to separate them.  “Do ah, do you mind if I keep this?”  Sam asked as he held the flyer out in front of him in a weak attempt to block Rafe from getting much closer to him.  He’d be lying if he said he _wasn’t_ nervous now, especially with how unpredictable Rafe could be.

 

“I don’t really care, I can print out as many copies as I want to of it,” Rafe replied coldly as he snatched the piece of paper from Sam’s hand and shoved it back at his chest.  He then narrowed his eyes at him.  “So.  _Samuel._   I heard that you’ve been doing some _odd jobs_ around camp?”

 

A nervous laugh escaped Sam’s throat as he gently took the flyer from Rafe and quickly stuffed it into his pocket.  “I… I don’t know what you mean,” he lied, but seeing as one of his _customers_ was in the same room as them, he had a feeling that his fib was soon going to be revealed.

 

“You _don’t know_ what I mean?”  Rafe parroted back in a louder tone, stepping in closer to Sam so that he could threateningly press the palm of his hand against his chest.  “My colleague here has let me in on the little secret that you were keeping from me, that you were selling your body to some of the soldiers?”  He forcefully clutched at the collar of Sam’s shirt, causing it to wrinkle in his grip.  “Is this true?”

 

Sam knew that he was in a bind.  Either he told the truth and faced Rafe’s ire right then and there, or he kept up the lie to buy himself some time while Rafe found other soldiers in his group to collaborate on Freddie’s story, and the punishment would be even _worse_ later on.  Knowing Rafe, he’d have the evidence needed by lunchtime, so there was no point in delay tactics.  Plus there were other people he needed to work with if he actually wanted to _escape_ the camp, and having Rafe go out on a witch hunt wasn’t _exactly_ going to help his odds in leaving.  It was best to suck it up and keep the number of people involved low.  “What I do with my body is _none_ of your business,” Sam practically spat out as he gave Rafe a glare.  He then glanced down to where Rafe’s hand was still on him.  “Do you mind?”

 

Rafe was a little taken aback by Sam’s change in attitude, which only soured his mood even more.  “No Samuel, I _don’t_ mind,” he ground out as he twisted the fabric of the shirt tighter in his fingers.  “After _all_ I’ve done for you to this day, and you’re going to lie to me like this?  You could still be rotting in that humid hell of a prison back in Panama if it wasn’t for me.”

 

“I needed money,” Sam explained nonchalantly with a shrug.  “And food, and cigarettes.  Running around all day to find nothing doesn’t exactly put food in my belly.”  Meeting the now-seething glare on Rafe’s face, he continued on, despite his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.  “I didn’t lie to you Rafe, I just didn’t tell you.  There’s a difference in the two, you know.”  A haughty smirk graced his lips.  “And besides, being in that prison in Panama was _way_ better than the prison you’ve got me in here.  At least I actually got fed there.”  He knew that he had probably gone _too_ far when he saw Rafe’s face get red with anger, and he barely had time to brace himself before Rafe punched him in the stomach.  Sam groaned as he doubled over from the impact, sharp pain radiating through his gut from the hit.  He clutched at his stomach, and struggled to keep upright despite how much pain he was in.  Sam had been in his fair share of fights in prison, and had _much_ worse back then, but Rafe’s hit definitely packed a wallop.  His first instinct was to strike back, but just as he managed to straighten himself up, he heard the unmistakable click of a safety being released from a gun.

“Don’t try anything _funny_ Sam,” Rafe warned as he stood by Freddie, who was now steadily pointing a handgun at Sam’s head.  “I _really_ don’t want to have to pay to get this shithole of a place cleaned up.  Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of, well, _anything_?”

 

 

Sam could feel his pulse throbbing under his skin.  It wasn’t the first time he’d been in front of a loaded gun before, and it probably wouldn’t be his last.  It was never easy no matter how many times he had done it.  “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” he ground out, glaring at Rafe with darkened, narrowed eyes as he held his stomach.

 

The expression on Rafe’s face lightened once he saw that Sam was going to cooperate.  “Good.  I’m glad to see that we’ve come to an agreement,” he said with his hands raised in front of him, his gold designer watch glinting in the sunlight streaming through the small window.  Rafe stepped closer to Sam and grabbed his chin with his hand, forcing Sam to look down at him.  “Now we’re not going to have this problem again, _are_ we?”  He asked as he stared into Sam’s eyes with a cold glare.  “You’re done with your little _business_ in my camp?”

 

Sam wanted to turn away from Rafe’s eyes, wanted to spit in his face, wanted to deck that smug smirk right off of his lips, but instead he held Rafe’s gaze.  “Yeah, it’s done.”  It wasn’t a lie after all, he really _was_ done, now that he had enough funds to get the hell out of there once the timing was right.  But Rafe didn’t need to know that.

 

“Good,” Rafe said as he released his grip on Sam, and signaled for the mercenary to drop his weapon with a flick of his finger.  “You try to pull anything like that again, and I won’t be _quite_ as forgiving.  I thought we were past all this, Samuel.”  He shook his head as he stepped back towards his desk.  “Anyway, I think we should work on _this_ section here today,” Rafe announced nonchalantly as he pointed to a section on a map of the surrounding area that was spread out on the desk.  “Maybe we missed something the last time we searched it.  I want to make sure that we check everything with a fine toothed comb this time.”

 

Sam nodded in agreement, although internally, he sighed.  It had been probably the tenth time or _more_ that they had searched in that same area and found _nothing_.  But seeing as Rafe was already on edge now, the only thing he could do was to go along with his plans and bide his time until he saw his opportunity to escape and find his brother.  And he hoped that it was _soon_ , especially with the auction coming up in a week.  If he could get to Nathan _before_ the auction, it would be even better.  Maybe they could even find a way to go to Italy together, and get the cross somehow.  “Let me go get my equipment and I’ll meet you there in half an hour,” Sam offered as he flicked a thumb back towards the door.  “Since me coming over here was kind of _sudden_.”

 

Rafe gave Sam a thin smile and a nod before moving to sit back down at his desk.  “Just don’t be late, _Sam_.”


	4. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finally finds freedom for _real._

Sam made sure that he _wasn’t_ late meeting Rafe later on that morning.  He didn’t want to draw any more suspicion to himself than he already had, because after the confrontation with Rafe, he decided that he needed to get out of there as fast as he could.  Now that he had all of the information about the second cross, he needed to escape and find Nathan.  So that they could hopefully get the cross and continue the search for Avery’s treasure.  _Together._   Sam only had a week before the auction, so time was definitely of the essence.  But he played it cool the rest of the day, making sure to resume his role as the loyal Avery expert, and he continued to follow Rafe’s orders, despite the throbbing ache in his abdomen from where he had been struck earlier.  But he shook off the dull pain and acted like nothing had happened between them, having long learned that was the best way to keep Rafe off of his back and regain his trust.  Not that he was going to need it for long, anyway.

 

Fortunately for Sam, his ruse worked, and he was able to get through the day working with Rafe just as he always did.  Just as he had been for the past two years.  Once the sun was steadily lowering in the sky he was freed of his duties for the evening, and he quickly made his way back to his tent.  Not _too_ quickly though, he didn’t want to arouse any suspicion in Rafe or any of his men that Sam was pretty sure were ordered to keep an extra eye on him.  Whenever there was an _incident_ between him and Rafe, he was fairly sure that the hired goons were well aware of what had gone on and ordered to act accordingly.  It probably also acted as a deterrent to the soldiers as well, in case any of them were thinking about defecting for whatever reason.  So he acted casually about getting back to his ‘home,” and once he had slipped past the flap of his tent and was away from the watchful eyes of Rafe’s men did he allow himself to breathe a sigh of relief.

 

_Finally,_ Sam thought to himself as he zipped up the flap behind him and then immediately dropped to his knees next to his cot.  He stuck a hand underneath the thin mattress and fished out the thick envelope that he had been hoarding his savings in, quickly tugging the stack of bills free and fanning them out so that he could count them.  Sam swiftly flipped through the bank notes, and when he saw that all of his money was accounted for, he slowly allowed a wide smile to spread across his lips.  _This was it._   He officially had enough money to get out of the hell that he had been subjected to, and find his way back to Nathan.  To his real _home_.  Sam started to get a little giddy with excitement that he could surely, finally _leave_.  But he still needed to keep his wits about him until he was actually outside of the walls of the compound.  So he stuffed the money back into the envelope and slid it back into its hiding place for the moment.  If he wanted to make his escape, he’d have to do it under the blanket of darkness, and it wasn’t quite sunset just yet.  So to kill some time, he decided to go take a shower first.  Especially since he wouldn’t be sure when he’d be able to take another one once he finally _did_ fly the coop.  So he grabbed his towel that was hanging in its usual spot and headed back towards what served as his door.  A nice, _long_ shower would probably do him some good, especially to help soothe the injury that he had been hiding.  Before Sam exited the tent he tugged a corner of his shirt up and winced when he glanced down and saw the purple bruising on his torso.  Rafe sure did a hell of a job on him.  If everything went as planned, Sam hoped it would be the _last_ time that Rafe would ever lay hands on him.

 

* * *

 

Just as he had wanted, Sam took a long, luxurious shower.  Well, as long and luxurious a shower that he could reasonably take in a shared bathhouse.  It still wasn’t quite dark outside when he finally exited the building, so he lit up a cigarette and savored it while leaning against the structure, with his bath towel draped around the back of his neck.  His nerves started to kick up a bit when he thought about the possibility of his escape plan _not_ working, but he willed those negative feelings away with a long drag from his cigarette.  Not that he had a _real_ plan, more like he had planned on tossing a bribe at one of Rafe’s men and praying for the best.  He was pretty confident that he could use his charms to have things work out his way, especially after having been around the site for two years now.  Sam had dealt with enough of the mercenaries to be able to suss out who might turn on Rafe with sufficient incentive.

 

Sam couldn’t stop thinking about how freedom was _finally_ within his reach as he took the last puff off of his cigarette and then dropped it to the gravel so that he could grind it out with the heel of his shoe.  Of course he still had to manage to _escape_ , but he was confident that it was going to happen.  Even if the thought of being caught and punished by Rafe _did_ send a shiver of fear down his spine.  But if it came down to it, he wasn’t afraid to fight back if he needed to.  Sam had played nice for the past couple of years, but there was even so much that _he_ could take.  He just had to make sure that he didn’t get caught, simple as that.  With a steadying exhale of breath, he pushed off of the wall and started to make his way back to his tent, hopefully for the last time.  At least, that was the plan.  Once he got back to where he had called home for the past couple of years, he planned to pack what few belongings he had, the cash he had saved up, and then set things into motion as soon as darkness had settled in.  A smile crinkled at the corner of his mouth as leaves crunched underneath his footsteps.  It wouldn’t be long now.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night, Sam finally savored the sweet, _sweet_ flavor of freedom.  He reveled in it as he lit up a cigarette in a designated smoking area at the Iverness Airport, while waiting for his flight to London to board.  It was the first flight out of there that he was able to book as soon as he arrived at the airport, and he didn’t want to waste any time waiting around.  The sooner he put more distance between him and Rafe, the _better_.  Once he arrived in London, he planned on getting on a flight back to the United States as soon as he could, because now that he was free, he couldn’t _wait_ to see Nathan.  All he could think about was reuniting with his younger brother and continuing the search for Avery’s treasure together with him.  Just as it was meant to be.  But in order to do that, they needed to raid that auction coming up in Italy first, and nab that beautiful, intact Saint Dismas cross before anyone else could.  And he couldn’t do it alone. 

 

As he took a drag off of his smoke, he thought back to the earlier events of the night, before he managed to get to the airport.  Thankfully his escape from Rafe’s camp went better than he could have ever expected.  After he had packed up and bid his tent farewell, he skulked around a bit to stake out where the guards were patrolling.  Sam knew the patrols fairly well after having lived there for two years, and he probably could have gotten by easily on his own without needing to seek help from anyone, due to the fact that the patrol routes never seemed to change and were on a pretty rigid, routine schedule.  But he also didn’t want to take the chance of running into a rogue guard and then being completely screwed once they realized that he was trying to escape.  Fortunately for him, one of the soldiers on patrol happened to also be one of his previous customers, and one of his _good_ customers at that.  Sam started out with some small talk and laid on the charm, and before he knew it, he was being escorted through the gates and into a taxi that was idling nearby.  It was almost _too_ easy, but he guessed that playing nice all that time really _did_ pay off.  Or maybe it was that Rafe had pissed off one too many guys.  He almost didn’t even have to grease the other guy’s palm either.  _Almost._   If he had known that it was going to be _so_ easy, he would have left a long time ago.  Well, if he had the money for it earlier on, he would have.  But now he was _truly_ free.  With nothing but his passport in his pocket and his backpack hanging off of his back, he was more than ready to get back to his _real_ home.  To Nathan.

 

Sam heard the announcement over the loudspeaker that his flight was about to begin boarding, so he took the final inhale off of his cigarette before putting it out in the nearby ashtray.  After he puffed out the smoke that he held in his lungs, he couldn’t help but grin.  _Here I go._ He didn’t give much thought to the life that he was leaving behind, if you could even call it a proper life.  It was more like indentured servitude to Rafe, and was furthest from the life that he had ever envisioned for himself.  But, he guessed that the one thing that he had to be thankful to Rafe for was that he was able to get falsified documents so that he could at least travel.  Sam was pretty sure that even for a guy like Rafe, with all of the money and prestige that he had, would find it difficult to fabricate documents for someone that was presumed dead.  Sam knew some guys who could do that sort of thing, they had done it before when he and Nathan had decided to change their last names and identities when they were kids, but he figured that even resurrecting someone from the dead would have been pretty damn hard to do, even as good as his contacts were.  “I guess I can thank you for that at least,” Sam murmured to himself as he headed over to the boarding area for his flight.  But that was the only thing that he could allow himself to be grateful to Rafe for.  Other than that, he couldn’t get up into the air soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's a short chapter. ;A; But I promise that more exciting things will eventually come. :D Thank you to those who are sticking with it!


	5. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finally manages to get back to America and reunite with his little brother. But he also comes with a proposition. One that could ruin the life that Nathan has built.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that it's taken me so long to update this. ;A; My inspiration has been everywhere lately, and once I managed to calm it down some, I was able to eke out another chapter. I know where this is going, I just need to sit down and get it there, ahahaha. I've also made kind of a New Year's Resolution to work on/finish my WIP's, so let's hope I can stick to it.

After what felt like an _eternity_ of flying and airport layovers, Sam made it back into the United States for the first time in fifteen years.  Once he stepped through the sliding doors to the outside after having gotten through all of the red tape of customs and passport control, he finally felt free for _real_.  It had been so long, _too_ long, since he had been back in his home country, and walking outside of the airport while taking in the American air just felt _right._   During his travel back to the USA, he couldn’t quell the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he constantly had, subconsciously afraid that somehow, some way, Rafe was going to catch him, and that he’d be forced back to his life of being a servant to him, only useful to Rafe as long as Avery’s treasure eluded them.  But that moment of being captured never happened, the _long_ trip back to America having been pleasantly uneventful.  Sam smiled to himself as he realized that he had _really_ done it, that he’d been able to escape Rafe, and he practically shook with relief while he gave a chuckle and a shake of his head.  Or maybe it was the nicotine withdrawal kicking in that gave him the jitters, seeing as Sam hadn’t been able to smoke since his last layover, which had been several hours ago.  He tugged his pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket along with his lighter, and with shaky fingers, fished out one of the few left in the package to perch it between his lips.  Once he’d had his fix, Sam figured he would catch a cab and stay at a cheap hotel for the night, considering that it was quite late, the sun having set some time before he’d landed in New Orleans.  He was exhausted and jet lagged, and it was probably best that he got some rest before finally meeting up with Nathan.  Just the mere _thought_ of being reunited with Nathan again made his heart swell, and Sam smiled around the cigarette in his mouth.  It had been so long since he’d seen his little brother, and fortunately it wouldn’t be much longer before he met up with him again.  _Just one more night_ , Sam thought as he pinched the cigarette between his fingers to take a long, much needed drag off of it.  One more night and they’d be together once again.  He really couldn’t wait.  Fifteen years had been a _long_ , long time.

 

Once he’d finished his smoke and ground the butt of it into the sidewalk, Sam made his way over to the taxi stand and hailed a cab.  During one of his many layovers, he’d managed to charm someone in one of the waiting areas into letting him use their laptop, so while he had time to kill, Sam had been able to do some research on his little brother as well as determine what his final destination was going to be.  Rafe had taught him how to use a computer and the internet out of necessity, figuring that two sets of eyes were better than one when it came to doing research on Avery and his long lost treasure.  Of course Rafe never left Sam to a computer unattended, so there was always one of his goons watching carefully behind his back whenever he was allowed to use one of his computers.  In that span of two years, Sam hadn’t been able to find out a whole lot about Nathan, where he was living and what he was doing, since Rafe had strictly forbidden him to do _anything_ that could possibly get him into contact with Nathan.  All Sam knew was that Nathan was alive, and that was thanks to one of his customers, who got a little loose-lipped after he’d serviced them well.  So when Sam had discovered all of the information that had been reported on Nathan’s previous adventures, he was both awed and a little jealous.  His little brother had certainly made a name for himself over the years, and Sam couldn’t be prouder.

 

It wasn’t long before a taxi finally came by and stopped at the curb in front of him.  Sam wasted no time in sliding into the passenger’s seat, and he gave the driver a friendly smile while shutting the door behind him.  “You know any cheap hotels around here?”  He asked the driver as he shoved his backpack onto the floor next to his feet before pulling the seatbelt across his chest.  “Because that’s where I wanna go.”

 

The cab driver just nodded as he reached over to the fare meter in the middle of the car’s console and started it up.  “I know just the place,” he said with a nod, before putting the car into gear and began to pull away from the curb.

 

Sam leaned back into his seat and let his eyes slip shut.  “Wake me up when we get there, huh?”

 

* * *

 

 

It was still somewhat dark outside when Sam arrived at Nathan’s workplace, the sun just barely starting to crest over the horizon of the Mississippi river.  As exhausted as Sam was the night before, once he’d arrived at his hotel he’d managed to get in touch with one of their old contacts. The guy fortunately seemed to know a lot about his little brother, and was able to corroborate the almost unbelievable stories he’d seen about Nathan on the internet.  He’d also been able to give Sam the location of where Nathan now worked, to which Sam wasted no time getting to once he had woken up in the morning.  He was a little surprised to see that Nathan was working an actual, legit job for a salvage company, especially after having heard about his little brother’s wild adventures, but Sam _also_ heard that Nathan supposedly had retired from treasure hunting as well.  Sam frowned slightly at that thought while glancing over to a window in the trailer, where he could make out a shadow moving inside against the light that faintly shone from it.  _Nathan?_   Sam thought hopefully as he took a breath to ease his slight anxiety due to the fact that the moment he had been looking forward to all of those years was _finally_ upon him.  He figured he’d find out soon enough about his younger brother from his own mouth, as he walked towards the door that separated him and a reunion that was long, _long_ overdue.

 

Sam’s heart was practically in his throat when he knocked on the door, nerves and anxiety starting to spike when he heard what sounded to be the faint voice of his younger brother through the closed door.  A sound that he’d been dreaming of for years and years, and just hearing it seemed to be almost too good to be true.  He couldn’t _quite_ make out what Nathan was saying, so when the door didn’t open, he knocked on it again.  After a third attempt, Sam tried the doorknob and was surprised when he found it to be unlocked.  He let himself in and glanced around, seeing that there was yet another couple of doors inside the room, one open towards a storage area, and then another that was closed.  Sam stepped towards the center of the trailer, where a table covered in books and maps lay.  Just as he was going to investigate the items on the table, he heard the door behind him open, and a familiar voice followed.  Sam played it cool though, even though his heart was pounding in his chest, but somehow he managed to hide it.  “Yeah I’m ah… looking for my little brother,” he started to speak, turning around to see his younger brother in front of him, looking different, older than he remembered, but was still the same Nathan despite how the years had altered his appearance.  “He’s about your height, a little bit leaner, definitely less gray in the temples,” Sam said as he pointed towards his own head, while a slight smirk briefly crossed his lips.

 

“Sam?”  Nathan asked in pure disbelief, taking a moment to take in what he was seeing and hearing in front of him.  It couldn’t be, could it?  As far as he knew, his brother was _dead._   And in his grief, he had shoved all of his memories of Sam down deep into the depths of his heart, his death something that he was never able to fully come to terms with, finding it was much easier to pretend that Sam didn’t exist.  But now, there he was in front of him, alive and seemingly well, and it was _overwhelming_.

 

“It’s good to see you again, Nathan,” Sam replied, still keeping his calm demeanor even though he was buzzing with excitement at seeing his younger brother again.  He wanted nothing more than to take Nathan in his arms and hug him and never let him go, maybe even kiss him all over, from the top of his forehead to the bottom of his chin, but there had been _so_ many years between them.  Sam didn’t know if Nathan even _felt_ that way about him anymore.  So he paused, waiting to see what his little brother was going to do or say next.

 

“Oh my God, Sam!”  Nathan cried out, his voice cracking as Sam’s name left his lips, a name that he hadn’t said out loud in _so_ long.  He then closed the distance between them and threw his arms around his older brother’s shoulders.  Immediately his throat got tight and tears welled up at the corners of his eyes as he embraced his big brother.  He couldn’t believe it.  After so many years apart, _fifteen years_ apart, not that he had been counting or anything, his presumed to be dead older brother was right there in his arms again.  Nathan gave Sam a squeeze, holding onto him so tight, not wanting him to get away after so long, almost afraid that if he let Sam go, he’d disappear in front of his eyes once again.  He nuzzled his face against the faux fur of Sam’s jacket collar, warm tears starting to trickle from his eyes, and he found that Sam even smelled the same way he had remembered.  A familiar mixture of cigarettes, cologne and his own musky scent that quickly brought back all of the memories that Nathan had suppressed for such a long time.  “I can’t believe it’s really you,” Nathan murmured into his coat, unable to stop the tears once they started.  “Is this a dream?”

 

“Whoa! All right, all right.  Take it easy, take it easy,” Sam got out with a chuckle when he quickly found himself wrapped up in his little brother’s embrace.  He easily returned the gesture though, sliding his hands behind Nathan’s back and rubbing at him gently with his thumbs.  Sam couldn’t help himself from getting choked up himself, especially when he heard what sounded like a small hiccup coming from Nathan, and he dipped his chin down into his younger brother’s spiky hair, in order to press a soft kiss to the top of Nathan’s head.  “It’s not a dream Nathan, I’m right here,” Sam reassured softly, feeling warm wetness trail from the corners of his eyes.  Reuniting with his little brother was better than he could have ever imagined, and if he could have, he would just stay there, locked in Nathan’s arms.

 

“But how?”  Nathan choked out, giving a sniffle and moving a hand up to wipe at his eyes with the back of his sleeve.  “I saw you…”  His voice trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence out loud.  He saw his older brother die right in front of his eyes, and he relived that horror in his mind so many times in his life, over and over again, feeling extreme guilt every single time.  Always asking himself what if he had done something different?  Would Sam have been alive then?  Sometimes even wishing that it had been _him_ that died instead of Sam, in those times when his mind had gone to very dark places.

 

As much as he didn’t _want_ to, Sam untangled himself from their embrace and pulled away in order to tug at the bottom of his shirt.  “Yeah, you did,” he said as he pulled up his shirt along with his coat, exposing his torso and the three bullet hole shaped scars that had been hiding underneath.  “Right there.”

 

“Jesus,” Nathan got out with a huff of breath as he eyed the marred skin with wide blue eyes.  He tentatively reached out with his hand, letting his fingers brush over the scars, the contact with Sam’s skin sending a little spark through him.  “How?”  He breathed as he found himself unable to tear himself away from the sight, suddenly overcome with the want, the _need_ to drop to his knees and kiss the scars, but somehow Nathan managed to keep himself reeled in.

 

“The doctors they— the ‘doctors,’” Sam explained, pausing to use air quotes before continuing on.  He wouldn’t have exactly called the guys who saved his life ‘doctors,’ but they did the job after all.  And he was somewhat thankful to them that he was there with Nathan once again, something that he had only fantasized about when he was behind bars.   “—they patched me up, and they tossed me right back into the cell,” he said with a motion of his hand.

 

“Yeah but I— I made calls, I checked everywhere,” Nathan said, his voice pitching a little higher as he explained.  “Everything I heard, everything I found… it all confirmed that you were dead.”  His voice tightened with the last word, and he could feel tears threatening to well up in his eyes once again.  He didn’t want Sam to think that after all they’d been through, that he would have just left him there in that Panamanian hell.  Because that was _far_ from the case.

 

“Nathan, we killed a guard.  They wanted to see me rot in that cell for the rest of my life,” Sam said, a warm, understanding tone radiating through his words.  He knew that the prison workers did everything to conceal the fact that he was still a prisoner there, only giving him up when Rafe showed up with a fat wad of cash for any information on him.  And he knew that it wasn’t Nathan’s fault that he was trapped in there for so long.  He was damn lucky to get out.  “And I nearly did.”

 

“Jesus Sam, I…” Nathan’s voice got caught in his throat again when he thought about how long Sam had been stuck in that prison without him knowing, the guilt threatening to wash over him all over again.  “If I’d have known, I swear to you I would have come after you— I swear.”

 

“You would’ve come back.  I know, Nathan, I know,” Sam reassured his little brother with a clap of his hand to his shoulder.  He did know.  Nathan would have never abandoned him if he had known that he was alive.  Sam knew that Nathan would have done everything in his power to get him out of there if he could have.   “What’s important now though, is that I’m out.”

 

Nathan nodded in agreement, but he was suddenly overcome by the feeling of wooziness.  It seemed like the shock of being reunited with his presumed to be dead brother _finally_ caught up with him.  Swaying slightly, Nathan ended up stumbling into his big brother, catching himself by clutching at the collar of Sam’s jacket.  “Uh, sorry about that,” he said with a chuckle, glancing up towards Sam to give him a sheepish smile as he steadied himself.

 

“You still with me?  You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?”  Sam asked with slight alarm, sliding an arm loosely behind his little brother just in _case_ Nathan was going to lose his balance once again.  It still felt a little surreal to have Nathan right there with him, to be touching him and talking to him once again, after all of those years he went without.  And judging by the way his brother seemed to _almost_ be on the verge of passing out, Nathan probably felt the same.

 

“I might,” Nathan answered honestly with a little laugh, his cheeks reddening once he had regained his balance and he _didn’t_ feel like he was going to black out.  “I just need some air I think,” he said with a little laugh as he let go of Sam and motioned towards the entrance to the trailer.

 

“Okay yeah,” Sam agreed as he led his little brother towards the door, making sure to keep his hand at the small of Nathan’s back, just in case he got unsteady once again.  “The fresh air would do us both good I think.”

 

Nathan just nodded as he allowed Sam to help him out the door, suddenly feeling like it was old times again, where his brother would take the lead and he would follow.  He felt a warm sensation in his chest at those memories, and somehow, even though it had been fifteen years since they had seen each other last, Nathan felt like it had only been yesterday with how easily they settled back into the way they looked out for each other.  Sam always took care of him and vice versa, and he just now realized how _much_ he had missed that over the years.

 

Once they got outside and settled onto the wooden bench that was on the deck, Sam tugged a cigarette out of his dwindling pack, and placed it in between his lips in order to light it up.  After lighting it and taking a drag off of it, he turned towards Nathan.  “I wanna hear about you,” Sam said after puffing out a cloud of cigarette smoke from between his lips.  “I called one of our old contacts, and he told me some pretty crazy ass stories, unbelievable stories even.”

 

“What’s there to tell?”  Nathan said with a laugh as he tilted his head back and stared up towards the gradually brightening sky.  “And what kind of crazy stories?”  He lolled his head to the side so that he could shoot a glance over towards his older brother.  “Besides, how did you get out?  When did you get out?”  Nathan sat up straight and started to gesticulate with his hands as he sputtered out questions that he didn’t have questions to.  “And how did you find me?”

 

“All right, slow down,” Sam said with a chuckle, dropping a hand to Nathan’s knee in order to give it a little pat.  He’d answer his brother’s questions in time, but he wanted to hear about Nathan’s endeavors first.  “Is what I heard true?  Gut-shot, hanging from a derailed car in the Himalayas?”  He asked incredulously.  It was pretty amazing that he had survived back in Panama, but it sounded to be even _more_ amazing that Nathan had survived all that, if it was true.

 

“Yeah, ah… That actually happened,” Nathan answered in a slightly sheepish tone.  He looked downwards and moved a hand to the hem of his shirt so that he could pull it up slightly.  “See?”  Nathan said as he exposed his torso, revealing a large, faded scar.

 

“Jesus Christ Nathan,” Sam exclaimed with wide hazel eyes when he saw the injury.  He didn’t hesitate in reaching out to brush his fingertips over the marred skin, and for a moment he was full of anger and sorrow.  If he hadn’t been stuck in Panama in that prison, he might have been able to prevent his little brother from getting shot.  If _only_ he had been able to be there for Nathan.  “Tell me what happened.  Everything,” Sam said with a lift of his head so that he could meet his brother’s eyes.  He couldn’t help himself from being protective of his little brother, even though the events were long in the past.  But he _had_ to know what had gone down.

 

When the pads of Sam’s fingers grazed over his skin, Nathan swore that he felt electricity spark between the two of them.  A familiar sensation that he hadn’t felt in _so_ many years, and the contact made him start to feel warm inside.  “Yeah, okay so…” Nathan started to say as he tugged his shirt back down.  “It all started when I got roped into breaking into this Turkish museum to steal this oil lamp, okay?”

 

Sam nodded as he leaned forward in interest and listened to his little brother tell the incredulous tales, chiming in every once in a while when he could.  But mostly he sat there in amazement as Nathan recounted what had happened to him, while taking periodic drags off of his cigarette and attentively taking in the details of his brother’s escapades straight from the source.  It seemed that his contact wasn’t lying about the crazy stories at _all_.  Before he knew it, the sun had risen and it was _well_ into daytime once Nathan had finally finished recapping what had gone on during those lost fifteen years between them.  “Unbelievable,” Sam muttered through a cloud of cigarette smoke, shaking his head in disbelief at what he had just heard.  A pang of jealousy hit him, and he wished desperately that he could have been by Nathan’s side during all of his adventures, but there was no turning back time, unfortunately.  He’d just have to make the most of the time that he had _now_ with his little brother.

 

“Yeah, it was,” Nathan agreed with a nod.  “I wish you could’ve been there,” he said solemnly, lifting his eyes up to meet Sam’s.  He was grateful that Sam was back in his life, and he didn’t know what god had taken pity on him enough to make what seemed to be the impossible happen, but of course, just like any other human being, he wanted more.  All of those adventures would have been _much_ better if Sam had been by his side.  It would have just felt _right._

 

“Yeah, I wish I could have too little brother,” Sam replied as a small smile spread across his lips.  Even though they were separated for so many years, it seemed like they were still on the same wavelength with each other.  Some things just never changed.  “But it’s still just unbelievable to me that you stumbled upon so many archaeological gold mines, and managed to walk away with _nothing_ every single time.”

 

Nathan chuckled at his older brother’s words.  “It’s just the story of my life I guess,” he reasoned.  “But I did manage to grab a few trinkets here and there.  Paid off the house, the car, the engagement ring…”  Nathan paused as his mind froze for a moment.  He hadn’t even told Sam about Elena yet.  And for that matter, Elena didn’t know about Sam _either._   It was much easier to pretend that Sam didn’t exist rather than to forcefully open old wounds by explaining that he used to have an older brother, one that he looked up to and meant the _world_ to him, but he ended up dying during a prison escape in which they were voluntarily incarcerated.  Never mind that he and Sam didn’t exactly have a _traditional_ brother-brother relationship either.  No, it was much easier to shove all of that into the depths of his soul and lock it up, rather than try to explain things to Elena.  Especially since their relationship was kind of hot and cold anyway.  And recently, it was running more on the cold side than hot, so the revelation that Nathan had an older brother who miraculously came back from the dead wasn’t _exactly_ going to earn him any points with his wife.  “I’m ah, I’m married,” he explained sheepishly, his eyes immediately flicking down to his feet and away from Sam.  “Elena, from the stories, she’s my wife.”  Nathan felt a pang of guilt at the revelation, although the reasonable side of him told him that the feeling was irrational.  Sam was dead after all, at least, he _thought_ he was dead, every possible trail that he had followed led him to the same conclusion, that Sam had died that day of the escape from the prison.  So he shouldn’t have felt any guilt over moving on with his life after Sam died.  But that was hard to make himself believe now that Sam was _back._   “You’ve gotta come meet her.  Tonight, you can come over for dinner, and I can tell her all about you,” Nathan offered.  _Shit, I’ve gotta tell her all about you,_ he thought to himself as soon as the words left his mouth.  He’d kept enough secrets from Elena throughout his life, but this one was a pretty _big_ one. 

 

Sam stood up from his seat and dropped his spent cigarette on the ground before stamping it out with the sole of his shoe.  He wasn’t going to lie, he felt a little tug on his heart when he found out that Nathan was married, but he couldn’t blame his little brother.  As far as Nathan knew, he was dead, so of course he should have moved on.  Any normal person would have.  What they had in the past was the _past._   But it still hurt a little.  Now that he knew that Nathan had a wife, Sam figured that his little brother would be even _less_ inclined to join him on a treasure hunt, even if it _was_ the long lost treasure that their mother spent _her_ life to find.  Sam had a lie on the tip of his tongue, ready to spin a story to where Nathan would have no choice but to help him out, but he really didn’t want to lie to his little brother anymore.  All those times in the past where Sam had to lie to those gentle blue eyes of his, he deeply regretted them.  And he didn’t want to fall back into old habits, not when he had a new lease on life.  Maybe all those years in prison changed him as a man after all.  “I think you’re going to want to take a look at this,” Sam said as he tugged a piece of folded paper out of his pants pocket, and motioned it towards his little brother.  “You’d be amazed what you find on the internet these days.”

 

“What’s this?”  Nathan asked curiously with a tilt of his head as he took the offered piece of paper from his older brother.  He opened it up, and his eyes widened when he saw a picture of a _very_ familiar looking cross printed on it.  “Is this…?”

 

“Yep, it’s our old friend Saint Dismas,” Sam replied with a nod, before moving to take another cigarette from the pack in his front pocket.  “Notice anything different about this one from the one back in Panama?”  He asked as he perched the cigarette between his lips and moved to light it up.

 

Nathan glanced at the paper again, and right away he could tell the difference.  “Holy crap, this one’s still intact, isn’t it?”  He asked incredulously as he looked over the picture.  Then a realization hit him.  “Avery made more than one cross,” Nathan went to say, a _little_ excitement starting to build inside of him once he began to put the pieces together of what Sam was implying.  “The one we found in Panama was a bust, since it had nothing inside, but this one…”

 

“Might have something still left inside of it.”  Sam said with a puff of cigarette smoke, finishing Nathan’s sentence.  “ _This_ is our ticket to getting back on the trail of finding Avery’s treasure.  After all of these years.”

 

“So, where do we find this?”  Nathan asked curiously, feeling mixed emotions starting to bubble up inside of him about the fact that it seemed like Sam wanted to jump right back into the search for Avery’s treasure.  Their obsession with the treasure when they were younger was the reason why Sam was stuck behind bars for so long, and after finally being reunited with Sam, Nathan _really_ didn’t want to lose him again so soon.

 

“Oh, this exquisite piece is going up for auction in three days at the Rossi Estate,” Sam explained nonchalantly as he took the piece of paper back from Nathan and tucked it into his pocket while taking another puff off of his cigarette.

 

“The Rossi Estate?”  Nathan asked, a heavy feeling of dread hitting the pit of his stomach at the words.  He knew of the Rossi Estate and what kind of clientele that sort of place catered to, Sully had told him enough about the place for Nathan to know that it was bad news.  “And how do you plan on securing an invite to an exclusive, heavily guarded black market auction?”

 

“Well, you don’t necessarily need an invitation per se,” Sam replied with a shrug and a sweeping hand gesture.

 

“ _Okay_ ,” Nathan said as he picked up what Sam was putting down.  It’s not like both he and Sam _weren’t_ used to making their way into places that they didn’t belong.  Hell that was pretty much how he’d spent _a lot_ his life.  “And where are you going to get money to outbid all of the high rollers?”  He inquired.  “Even taking out a second mortgage on my house isn’t going to touch the amount of money those guys will be packing.”  Once the words left his mouth, Nathan instantly realized _exactly_ what Sam was insinuating.  “You’re gonna steal it, aren’t you?”

 

“No,” Sam answered as he puffed out a cloud of cigarette smoke between his teeth, and then glanced expectantly over at his little brother.  “We are.”

 

It took Nathan a moment to respond, the words leaving him briefly speechless.  “What?  Oh no, no,” he said as he put his hands up in front of him.  “I can’t… I’m out,” Nathan explained as he backed away from his little brother.  “I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.  There’s got to be someone else who can do it,” he said as he pulled out his cell phone in order to glance down his list of contacts.  There was a little something inside of him that _wanted_ to join Sam, to restart the search for Avery’s elusive treasure, but he _couldn’t_.  Seeing as his and Elena’s relationship had been kind of off and on rocky over the years, doing something like this would probably completely _destroy_ it. 

 

“Come on, Nathan,” Sam pleaded as he dropped his cigarette and put it out with his shoe.  “There’s no one in that phone of yours who would be right for the job other than you, and you know it,” he said as he pointed towards Nathan’s cell.  “And besides, don’t you think it would only be right if we found the treasure together?”  Sam let his eyes flick upwards so that they could meet Nathan’s. “For mom’s sake?”

 

At the mention of their mother, the fight inside of Nathan waned.  Finding Avery’s treasure was something that both he and Sam had _dreamed_ of for years, wanting desperately to finish their mother’s work as a tribute to her, and if only Sam hadn’t ‘died’ that day in Panama, maybe they _would_ have found it already.  But still, Nathan knew that going after the treasure was going to be dangerous, and it would no doubt ruin the life that he had settled into with Elena.  “Sam, I _want_ to, I really _want_ to,” Nathan admitted with a shake of his head.  “But I just _can’t_.”

 

Sam frowned at Nathan’s words, and reached back into his pocket to tug out another cigarette, the last one in his pack.  It seemed that his little brother had changed a lot over the fifteen years they were apart, and he _really_ didn’t expect Nathan to resist so much.  “What if I told you that finding the treasure would be getting one over our little friend Rafe?”  He asked as he lit up his cigarette and took a puff from it.  “Especially after what he’s done to me these past couple of years.”

 

Nathan was immediately confused.  “What do you mean?  Weren’t you in _prison_ for the past couple of years?”  He asked, while giving Sam a quizzical look.  Nathan knew that even after he and Rafe parted ways, and not exactly on the _best_ of terms, Rafe had continued to look for the treasure.  But as far as he had heard, Rafe had only come up empty handed.  Nathan’s eyes narrowed.  “What did he do to you?”

 

Sam exhaled a cloud of smoke from his lips.  “So uh, I haven’t _exactly_ been in prison the past couple of years,” he started to explain as he leaned against the deck railing, glancing down at the river below.  “Rafe got me out,” Sam admitted while tapping ash off of the tip of his cigarette, watching as it floated down into the water.  “Somehow he found out I was alive and he paid off the guards to let me go free.”  He shut his eyes briefly at the admission, knowing that the fact that he was free for two years and wasn’t able to go straight to Nathan was _probably_ going to bother his little brother.  “But during those two years, I was pretty much at the mercy of Rafe.  I wasn’t trapped in a jail cell, but I wasn’t exactly _free_ either.”

 

Knowing that Sam had already been out of prison for a couple of years sent a small pang of pain into the center of Nathan’s heart.  Of course he was glad that Sam wasn’t rotting in that jail for the entire time, but knowing that Rafe had intentionally kept his brother from him, caused fury to begin burning inside of him.  It didn’t help either that when Nathan dropped his partnership with Rafe, there was no love lost there for the businessman, and that only made the fire burn hotter.  “What did he make you do?”  He asked curiously, both interested in knowing the details but also _not_ wanting to know.

 

“I had to help him search for Avery’s treasure,” Sam answered, placing his cigarette back between his lips to take another drag off of it.  “Every day.  In Scotland, around the Saint Dismas Cathedral.  I was watched like a hawk to make sure that I didn’t escape.  He also made me promise not to try to contact you,” Sam said forlornly, shooting a furtive glance towards his little brother.  “I wanted to, every _day_ that I was stuck there.  But I was basically living with a gun to my head.  Or a fist to my gut,” Sam admitted, moving a hand down to rub at his stomach, still remembering the ache from Rafe’s punch a couple of days ago.

 

“So how did you get out of there?”  Nathan asked, settling in next to his older brother and folding his arms on top of the metal railing.   He still felt upset that he had missed out on two more years of his brother’s life, but Nathan was more upset at Rafe than Sam, considering it was Rafe’s doing that kept them apart.  And that only caused the anger building within him to rise.

 

“How do you usually get mercenaries to help you out?  You pay them off,” Sam replied with a smoky chuckle.  “I managed to scrounge up some cash, and once I had enough for a plane ticket and a nice amount to convince someone to look the other way, I bailed.”  He laughed, making sure to keep the details on _how_ he earned that money to himself.  That was something that Nathan _didn’t_ need to know.  “And here I am.”

 

Nathan slid an arm around Sam’s shoulder and tugged him towards him in a light hug.  “And I’m so glad that you are,” he said honestly.  A thought crossed his mind and Nathan couldn’t help but chuckle softly at it.  “Rafe hasn’t found anything yet, has he?  He’s been digging around that cathedral for _years_ now.  When I was working with him there was _nothing_ there.”

 

“Nope,” Sam answered with a laugh of his own.  “Do you know how hard it is to pretend you’re looking for something that you know isn’t there?”  He tugged out the piece of paper from his pocket again and motioned it towards Nathan.  “So what do you say, little brother?  Do you want to get back to unfinished business _and_ screw over our dear _friend_ Rafe?”

 

Nathan glanced at Sam, then down at the paper.  He knew what he had to do, even if it wasn’t the _best_ thing to do.  But he needed to see this thing to the end.  For Sam.  And to get back at Rafe for what he’d done to Sam for the past couple of years, even if he _was_ the one who got his older brother out of that prison.  Nathan took the paper from Sam and opened it back up to look at the black and white picture of the intact cross, while tugging his phone back out from his pocket.  Pulling up his contacts, he clicked on the one that he called the most, and held his phone up to his ear while visually examining what Sam had discovered.  “Hey, it’s me,” Nathan said to the person on the other end.  “Guess who just walked in here with the permits for that Malaysia job,” he fibbed, while turning away from his older brother.  “Yeah, I’m gonna take it,” Nathan went on to say, closing his eyes and cringing internally as he lied to his wife.  As long as Elena didn’t find out, everything would be all right.  He hoped.

 

Sam just grinned as he heard his brother talking on the phone behind him.  After all of those years behind bars, his dreams were _finally_ starting to come true.  Sam took one more puff off of his cigarette, before tossing it over the edge into the river below.  Once Nathan was off the phone, they had to get moving.  Time was of the essence, and they had some planning and traveling to do if they wanted to pull this heist off.


End file.
